


Chaotic Good Fucking

by irrationalTinker



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Cosmonaut Variety Hour
Genre: Gore, M/M, Multi, Other, Werewolf, beastiality, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8644870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalTinker/pseuds/irrationalTinker
Summary: BuKK-Slider is a stuck up, dark minded hunter in the dark world of Bloodeborne, and with a love interest you might not expect





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This character was created by Meghan of the CVH crew.

Prologue

The slamming of the 24 year old man’s bedroom door reverberated through the manor in a way it only could after an argument. “irredeemable sonofa…” he muttered curses at his parents for being so unreasonable. In their opinion he had been spending too much time with the middle class scum. Spending time out of the house was hardly an escape however, due to immeasurable in-breading over his family’s history of nobles he had been bestowed by whatever dark powers that be with quite pronounced features, most notably, his chin. 

It seemed to him that the only reason the commoners even allowed his presence down in the streets was because they wanted his parents money, which he was all too happy to give in exchange for companionship. Something was nagging at the edge of his mind though, and it wouldn’t go away no matter how much money he spent or fake friends he spent time with. Marcus didn’t fit in anywhere. His twisted sensibilities and constant need to be the center of attention fueled a deserved distaste that was apparent in everyone’s eyes who saw him. Marcus was not a nice person. He was barely even likeable ever.

The day Marcus realized this was the day he ran away from the small gated community he lived in. He ran (or rather walked, given how weak he was) out into the dirty streets of a dark Victorian-era world that he had been sheltered from all of his life. He strolled down musky streets and into dark alleys, and everyone knows that monsters lurk in the dark. 

When Marcus awoke in hunter’s dream, greeted by a living doll and a madman in a wheelchair, instead of being horrified he was exhilarated. He had just fucking died, but here he was, good as new. In fact, he was /better/ than new. The blood transfusion had given him strength and stamina he had never experienced. The man in the wheelchair asked him his name, and just like many other things that horrid night, something just clicked. Something horrible, twisted and disgusting once again clicked with him. He wasn’t Marcus anymore. 

“BuKK-Slider,” he said, “my name is BuKK-Slider.”


	2. Chaotic Good Meeting

The city of Yharnam could be described as nothing less than harrowing. Behind every corner lurked horrors BuKK had just recently come to the realization existed. As he walked down the cobbled, bloody streets, the weight of the slab of metal he was carrying around hardly affected him. His footsteps were deafening and even with that the rough sound of his breathing bouncing off of the walls and mixing with the orange light of the blood-moon he could hear the screams of distant monstrosities and the blood dripping from his cleaver.

This night BuKK had experienced things he never had before and he liked them. The ripping sound of flesh being rended from bone was like ecstasy and the warm dribble of blood down his blade onto his hand and spraying his face put him in a state of euphoria, a warm blanket of viscera. Nothing, however, compared to the grinding and cracking of bone as his saw tore apart creatures that probably weren’t even lucid enough to realize they wanted blood. 

He regulated his breathing as he turned another corner. He was stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t that he saw something that shocked him though. Something behind him had reached out and literally stopped him in his tracks. Four claws were all the way through his arm, keeping him there for the risk of tearing his arm open. Of course two seconds later he threw himself back, rolling and skidding to a stop on the cold street. 

“No no no no no no no no,” he panicked for a bit, a small amount of his old self slipping back through, insecure, needy, weak. He stabbed himself in the leg with a syringe filled with blood. Painfully he felt his arm pull itself back together. His muscles reached out and bonded together. BuKK gave his arm a cursory shake to make sure it was functioning again and looked at his attacker with tears of pain in his eyes.

There he was, stooped over his claws, licking the blood from them. His eyes reflected the light from the moon and they shimmered with a conscious, deliberate malice BuKK had seen only once. He saw them in the eyes of a mugger who’s family BuKK’s had indirectly killed due to their interest rates that had thrown the family into debt. That man wanted to cut BuKK open and he would’ve enjoyed it. This creature wanted to eviscerate BuKK and he wouldn’t just enjoy it, he would relish it. 

There was an ear-shattering howl, but it didn’t come from the monster in front of BuKK, it came from behind him, where a pack of lycanthropes were stalking, they had smelt his blood and they came for a meal. He let his eyes off of the beast in front of him and turned to the more volatile threat. The adrenaline pumping through his veins from his near death experience feuled his thirst for blood as he literally tore the monsters limb from limb. Going after a group of creatures without a game plan gets you killed, but BuKK didn’t know that. He managed to murder two dogs before one jumped on him.

It was time for him to die again, he was going to get eaten by a werewolf, again. That was the main theme in BuKK’s thoughts as the long teeth of the wolf buried themselves into his shoulder, tearing his skin and grinding on his bones. BuKK prepared for the twisting sinking feeling that is death, but it didn’t come. The wolf released him, but not of its own volition, the monster was dead. In his head BuKK couldn’t seem to think about anything other than one thing. “What killed it?”


End file.
